


Kevin's Exciting Desert Otherworld Adventure, ft. Carlos the Scientist

by CeNedraRiva



Series: Smile 'til your cheeks are burning [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos in the Desert Otherworld, Chronic Pain, Desert Bluffs Too, Flashbacks, Healing, Knives, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Physical Disability, Pining, Post-Strex Kevin, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthesis, Recovery, Self-Harm, Strexcorp is Evil, Suicidal Thoughts, The Desert Otherworld, The Smiling God - Freeform, Trauma, carlos and kevin are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-18 10:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeNedraRiva/pseuds/CeNedraRiva
Summary: Kevin was incredibly loyal to StrexCorp. One of their best and brightest employees with a bloodlust to match, the obvious pick to lead their forces against the rebellious Night Vale new hires. Kevin believed wholeheartedly in StrexCorp's family friendly values, and their ethically brutal methods of control.That was why, in the moments after Steve Carlsberg threw him through an old oak door and into the Desert Otherworld, Kevin very loyally destroyed his StrexCorp tracker implant, and ran away to loyally hide in the desert from any possible Strex search-and-rescue teams.
Relationships: Carlos & Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale)
Series: Smile 'til your cheeks are burning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550365
Comments: 52
Kudos: 94





	1. Bug God

Kevin could feel the shift the moment the words left his mouth. Steve Carlsberg transformed from the affable man Kevin had been speaking to only seconds before, physically growing larger, his teeth pointier. He lunged forwards, lifting Kevin into the air by the front of his shirt.

Kevin didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t Steve Carlsberg want Janice to be healed? Fixed? Made better? StrexCorp were very good at fixing things. They had fixed Kevin each and every time they broke him, and he was brighter now than ever. Rather like kintsugi, shattered to little pieces and remoulded into shape again, but now with lovely golden scars.

Steve Carlsberg was yelling some very unfriendly things right into Kevin’s face, and all Kevin could do was to stare. He had three blades with him. His hands were free. Steve Carlsberg had left his sides vulnerable to attack. Cecil was narrating the action nearby like any good radio host would. There was absolutely nothing preventing Kevin from escaping.

But…

Why would offering to fix Janice Palmer make Steve Carlsberg so upset?

Abruptly, Kevin was flying through the air into a much brighter place. Before him, the old oak door hovered in the air until Steve Carlsberg slammed it shut, and it disappeared like a mirage.

Kevin lay there, staring into the strange sky. This… this wasn’t where he’d been before. This wasn’t the place he’d walked through to find his way into the radio station. There were no other oak doors within sight. Nothing but dirt and shifting sand and little bits of scrub.

There was an urgent beeping noise coming from his StrexPhone, and a different beeping tone coming from his arm. No network found. The Strex network was out of range. He dropped his StrexPhone beside him.

Out of range. No signal.

There was a different noise now, drowning out the beeping. Loud and rough, wheezing laughter shaking through his chest. Shrill notes. Are they coming from him? He couldn’t stop.

Strex wasn’t here.

Kevin covered his mouth, biting into his replacement fingers to stop the noise. It was too much. It was too loud. He could barely breathe.

Eventually, the laughter settled, only the occasional giggle bursting free.

Free.

Was freedom meant to ache so much? His whole body was hurting, like it had realised StrexCorp was no longer nearby and chosen the moment to loudly bring up a list of complaints from the last five years or so. Kevin sighed, settling deeper into the sand. He felt heavy. Burning. Like he should be sinking through the sand to some unknown deep place, leaving molten glass in his wake. It was almost surprising to find he hadn’t.

Absently, he ran a thumb over the inside of his right forearm, finding the lump of foreign matter StrexCorp planted beneath the skin of all their longterm employees. It wasn’t that deep in his flesh, really. A combination of a tracker, a timer and Enthusiastic Worker Compliance technology to help keep you at top productivity. It was still beeping, demanding that he return to a signal zone, sending out mild electric shocks every few minutes, which Kevin readily ignored. Honestly, the shocks weren’t even level 5 yet! He could sleep through this.

Kevin let himself fall silent and still, breathing deeply. If not burning through the sand, maybe setting down roots? Percolating down between the grains. The wind was dancing around him, curious. He could feel it watching, brushing across his body, dragging sharp sand through the air and across his skin. Maybe it would wear him into a different shape entirely, little fragments and grains of Kevin shaken loose from his flesh and carried all across the desert.

When he opened his eyes, the sky had changed. The beeping was slower too. Staticky, like the battery was running low. Odd. Usually it lasted for weeks.

The nagging feeling that he was falling behind schedule eventually drove Kevin to sit up and try to find something to do.

What should he do? There weren’t any guidelines. Well, there were—Strex had guidelines for valued employees who were lost in out-of-signal deserts so that they might find their way back to a Strex re-engagement centre where they could be inspected for physical damage, repaired and reassigned—but Kevin really didn’t want to comply. He wanted—what did he want?

He wanted the beeping to stop. Simple enough to do. Although the stupid thing kept blurting out an anti-tampering alarm as he dug it out, and the wires were more intrusive than he remembered, tangling up with some larger blood vessels he really preferred to keep intact. He crushed the nuisance alarm under a rock, then did the same with the StrexPhone. No more alarms. No more Strex.

Well, nearly. He’d have to keep the foot and the fingers until he found better ones. Given that he appeared to be in a vast and desolate wasteland, that might be a while. Kevin settled for scratching out the Strex logos. He drew sun sigils over them with the blood from his wounded arm. It would do for now.

What next?

Lying down on the sand and slowly disintegrating into the earth certainly held an appeal, but it was a rather unproductive way to spend time. What did that leave, though? There was nothing here but light.

Kevin stared into the bright thing in the sky, an orb that was nearly like a sun if a sun could project menace. It hurt to look at.

There had been a time when Kevin was filled with light. On that day, he had left the StrexHotel. It was the same day he stabbed out his own eyes and left dark voids in their place, and felt the might of the Smiling God stream right through him to devour everything nearby.

Was the Smiling God still watching? Kevin hadn’t felt that light in years.

On one horizon, there were mountains. Strange things, far distant but also somehow close enough to touch. One had a blinking light on the top. Not there. There was a darkness on another horizon, a hazy beam of shadow that disappeared whenever he looked directly at it. Not there either.

The desert was beckoning. Kevin began to walk.

* * *

It was never dark. The sun-like orb would disappear somehow—it didn’t really move in arcs that approached the horizon so much as wander in ponderous spirals across the sky, before flickering out of sight between blinks—and still the sky was bright. Swirling gyres made of lurid colours scattered through with glittering pinpoints of light. If he watched too long, weeks would go past and the lights moved close.

Kevin blinked, and the sky was distant once more. His body felt weak, emaciated, skin turned to tough leather, bones old and crumbling. Desiccated.

“Just be still,” the lights whispered. “You’re so tired, rest, sleep. We’ll watch over you.”

Sometimes Kevin thought it might be easier, to lie still and sleep while the coloured lights fed. Strex were elsewhere. His double, Cecil Palmer, had been rather successful leading a resistance in Night Vale. The people of Desert Bluffs were tough, all of them survivors.

No one would see, if he chose to lie down.

“Yesss,” the lights whispered. “They’re safe, all fine without you. No one will miss you if you lie still.”

Kevin stared at his hands, fragile boney things too weak to grip the handle of a blade. They contrasted rather harshly with the metal and plastic of the Strex-branded fingers.

He took a step forwards.

The lights hissed, and Kevin grinned.

“You aren’t the Smiling God,” Kevin said, his voice cracked and harsh in his throat.

He took another step.

“We could be your Smiling God. Be still! Decompose!”

Kevin giggled, and took another step.

“You won’t consume me.”

Another step, and he was growing stronger with each one, breathing deeper and easier, and the skin across his hands began to fill out once more. By the time the glowing orb had reappeared high in the sky, Kevin was strong and healthy once more.

He kept walking.

* * *

Sometimes the land was made of soft pink sands. Sometimes there were orange rocks grown tall like grasping fingers reaching for the sky. Sometimes Kevin walked within the bowels of deep canyons, the bodies of dead sea animals gasping for air for the first time in centuries or longer. Kevin scratched them out of the walls. They followed him as he walked.

Kevin hadn’t brought many knives with him. The only ones he had were the three he had been wearing when Steve Carlsberg had thrown him into this desolate place. They weren’t his favourite blades, one too small, another fit his hand poorly. The third he just didn’t know well yet, one he had found soon after Cecil had usurped Kevin’s hold on Night Vale’s radio station.

Nothing much lived here, no animals really. Nothing bright red except Kevin’s own arterial sprays. The skin was healing beneath his touch, flesh stitching back together, quick even by Kevin’s standards.

It was somewhat of a relief to finally redraw his smile. StrexCorp had been quite enthusiastic encouraging worship of the Smiling God, but they hadn’t allowed traditional smile renewal. Apparently, it was an unproductive practice best abandoned and replaced by commercial overindulgences on All Smile’s Eve. Kevin had completely agreed, of course. Strex knew best. The following series of accidents that had each resulted in Kevin’s smile growing red and wide were a complete coincidence, one that StrexCorp seemed determined to rule as “insubordination” and “deliberate circumventions of StrexCorp’s family friendly policies”.

It hurt. Well, of course it did, pain was part of the process. And it wasn’t that bad, really. At least this ache served a purpose, unlike the stabbing, itching sensations would sweep up his arms and legs as if he was being consumed by hundreds and hundreds of ants. Honestly, was it really so much to ask that his body just be functional?

It would be better once the Smiling God found him again.

Kevin sighed as the wounds finished healing. His cheeks were red and tacky beneath his fingertips. His smile was bright and wide.

* * *

Kevin was resting. Waiting. Ahead, atop the mountain was a lighthouse. Every few seconds, the light shone blinding in his direction.

It was the only piece of architecture Kevin had seen since coming here. The fringe of civilization.

No matter how far he walked, no matter how long, the lighthouse was there. He watched it, felt its beacon eye watch him back. The lighthouse wasn’t pushy like the colourful gyre of lights in the sky. It didn’t try to seduce him closer. It just sat there. Watching. Waiting.

Where was the Smiling God? Why couldn’t Kevin find It? Each day he drew his smile across his cheeks and bleeding maws all up and down his arms. Were they healing too quickly? Too brief to attract the attention of the Smiling God?

Had It left? Had it been too long? Had the Smiling God abandoned him? Why couldn’t Kevin feel It? Why couldn’t he find It? How could Kevin scream his adoration any louder?

Maybe he was too hollow now. Nothing but empty space, the discarded shell left over while the real Kevin wandered the real world, whole and glowing from within.

The lighthouse was sighing, mourning alongside him.

“Look up, look up…” the swirling lights in the sky whispered. “We’re not angry, we love you. Rest with us, look up!”

“You’re false light,” Kevin said, staring at the lighthouse. Gosh, he was tired. Was there anywhere in this place free of the needy sky?

“The Smiling God is gone, It left you here, It let them steal your home. It let them break your body and take your teeth. Lie beneath us, we’ll gift you peace.”

“I don’t want peace.”

The wounds on his arms stayed open longer when he rubbed sand into them. Grit stained red.

“We’ll make you free.”

“I already am. There’s nothing you have that I want.”

“Stay with us. We’ll fix you, really fix you instead of offering plastic replacements for the bits they cut away.”

His thoughts turned to Steve Carlsberg and Janice Palmer. His fingers—one metal, three flesh—traced along the edge where his ankle stump disappeared into the prosthetic.

“I don’t want to be fixed.”

“We’ll surround you, a chorus of voices. You’ll never be alone again.”

“Maybe so. But I don’t like you.”

Kevin stood, still staring at the lighthouse. He began to walk, and their voices fell away.

* * *

* * *

The lighthouse smiled gently down. It was made of smooth stone, the kind that glittered in the light.

Inside were photos, so many hundreds of them lining the walls, the ceiling, scattered across the floor. They were all of people, places he recognised. Buildings and rooms in Desert Bluffs. His old recording studio. Intern Vanessa. Grandma Josephine. They looked sad and stressed.

The StrexCorp logos were missing. How bizarre. All of them pulled down and smashed in the street, the burnt out husks of effigies and the shells of wrecked buildings.

Was that where the Smiling God was? It didn’t look happy. Had no one tried to summon the God there? No one was smiling.

Kevin had fallen asleep during that first visit, curled up upon the Lighthouse floor and surrounded by photos of Desert Bluffs. It did remarkable things, sleep. Made his body shut up for once. What was he meant to do about a missing foot and an old shattered shoulder blade anyway? He couldn’t exactly go back and not get shot. And he certainly wasn’t going to stop running and climbing things and fighting things just because his nervous system kept swearing at him.

That first nap became one of many. Kevin liked to sleep inside the Lighthouse. It was better here than beneath the sky. The lighthouse was friendly, but she knew Kevin would not stay here forever, and she would miss him but she would let him leave. She was safe.

How long ago was it that he had been thrown into this Godless waste? It felt like decades. Or maybe it was only last week? He could only remember the bright orb disappearing seven times.

The Lighthouse said it had been over a month. Kevin wasn’t sure she knew how time worked, but Kevin didn’t really understand time either. So he supposed her guess was as good as his own.

What are you searching for, the Lighthouse asked him once as Kevin rested against her walls, choosing a new direction to search in.

“I’m trying to find a light,” he told her.

A lighthouse is a good place to begin, she said.

“The dark is an even better place,” he said.

Kevin walked.

Dunes would shift beneath his feet, waves of sand dancing cresting and crashing to bury the unwary traveller. Sometimes, in the rockier places, there were plants, some covered in spines and saw-edged blades. Kevin made several new knives from them. There were other, more dangerous plants too, like the ones made up of botanical tentacles glistening with sweet-smelling syrup, surrounded by the large skulls and empty masks of their victims.

Once, Kevin threw one of his makeshift blades at one. The tentacle caught it in the air, crushing it, while the ground at Kevin’s feet erupted with strong and grasping roots, tangling around his feet. They were alarmingly resistant to steel, but after tearing through his left shoe and finding no blood or flesh to feed on, they lost interest, grasp loosening. Kevin kept his distance after that.

Sometimes Kevin could see figures in the distance, great masked warriors, marching armies heading to war, and he would grin and run closer. They would disappear into heat shimmers, but Kevin could always find the remains of their campfires.

Sometimes, now, he spotted tarantulas running across the sand, or found centipede tracks across a dune. Yellow spotted lizards that hissed when you got too close. Even once he saw a cat in the distance, all dressed up in a formal tuxedo, its skull bare and venomous spines flexing as it flew.

You are not the only one in this desert, the Lighthouse told him once.

“Well, of course not. You’re here, and so are the lights, and the spectral fish from in the rocks, and the masked warriors, and the animals too,” Kevin said. The heat of her stone walls radiated into his back while he cleaned his prosthetic fingers of sand and grit. The electric nerve response had been glitching out recently, making them feel abnormally clumsy.

You are not the only human wandering the sands, she said.

“Am I human?” Kevin asked.

Moreso than I am, she said, and he could hear laughter in her voice. He grinned.

“That’s true. Have you met them?”

I watched as he wandered, and he has visited, but he can’t hear my voice.

Kevin hummed, refitting his fingers. “Do you know if _I’ve_ met him before?”

I don’t think you have.

Kevin relaxed minutely. Probably not anyone from Desert Bluffs then. No rogue worker recovery teams. Not that they would be able to find him, without the tracker.

“I see. Maybe we’ll run into each other some day.”

You’ll like him.

Kevin quirked an eyebrow. “High praise, my coruscating friend. What makes you think that?”

I simply know. Your signal and his almost share a resonance, nearly complimentary.

“If you say so,” Kevin said, standing and stretching his arms out. The wind hissed, settling across his shoulders. Kevin listened as it whispered in his ear, telling him of every oak door it had noticed that day. He nodded, and set off in a direction that would avoid all of them.

* * *

Carlos had just finished leaving a voicemail for Cecil, and was sitting by a photo. In the photo, Cecil was washing his face, having just finished shaving. Carlos took in his every beloved detail and sighed.

He needed to find a way back to Night Vale. The otherworld desert was fascinating, but it was a lonely place, and while Carlos may have been used to doing things alone (a scientist is self-sufficient) this last year had been different. Cecil had made it different.

Carlos knew he could put people off sometimes. His passion for science at the expense of human interaction had many times led to him being a bad friend and a bad boyfriend, missing dates or hang outs, forgetting important details about people. He could talk for hours about the way plant cells absorbed nutrients or about the electromagnetic radiation spectrum released by Khoshekh, and a lot of people didn’t like that. They thought it was boring, or pointless, and sometimes they got angry.

Not Cecil. Dear Cecil.

From the moment Carlos had arrived in Night Vale and heard Cecil speaking about him on the radio, it was impossible to feel alone. Somewhere in the vast eternity of existence, there was someone thinking of him, someone who wanted to listen. More than that, someone who wanted to know! Who asked questions! Even if he didn’t always understand what Carlos was talking about.

Cecil was, oh… everything, really. His best friend. Quite possibly the love of his life. The most amazing person Carlos had ever met. It had only grown better when they moved in together, and each and every night Carlos could fall asleep by his side.

It was surprisingly easy to become accustomed to. And surprisingly painful to be without.

Cecil had left the frame of the photo, leaving only the empty bathroom behind. Carlos sighed, and prepared to leave.

“Hello.”

Carlos shrieked, spinning around to put his back against the wall. There was someone here, far too close for comfort, oddly familiar but in a terrible way. He was crouching near enough to touch, right behind where Carlos had been sitting.

“Ceec—” Carlos cut himself off. This wasn’t Cecil. “You… you’re Kevin. Cecil’s double.”

Kevin grinned briefly, his mouth falling back to a flat line flanked by deep red scars in the shape of a smile. His eyes were missing. Empty spaces like holes in the fabric of reality looking into a boundless void. There was barely any part of him free of blood or dirt. And even with all of that, he still looked remarkably similar to Cecil.

“Are you Carlos? The Scientist?”

“Uh… yes. Yes, that’s me.”

Kevin hummed, and sat on the ground opposite him. Carlos blinked, shifting to mirror his position. Apart from all the blood, and the gruesome scarring, and the missing eyes, he didn’t look particularly frightening. For Night Vale, it was practically an evening look.

“Um… can I help you with anything?” Carlos asked when the staring had been going on too long.

Kevin shrugged, still staring. “I was just thinking that this must be the first time we have ever been in the same place! Funny, that.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Carlos said, and Kevin nodded, glancing away. He began playing with some of the photos on the floor, pushing them into neat stacks, then flicking them away.

“It’s, er, been nice meeting you?” Carlos said, moving to stand. Kevin refocused on him like a snake, but didn’t make any other moves, simply watching as Carlos walked to the doorway.

“Carlos?”

“Yes?”

He heard Kevin fidgeting with the photos again.

“Do you know what happened? After Steve Carlsberg threw me through that door?”

“Well, lots of things happened. The sun rose. Stars formed. New plants began to grow—”

“Specifically, what happened in Night Vale? What happened to StrexCorp? What happened to Desert Bluffs? Do you… do you know? I broke my phone. I can’t check.”

Carlos frowned, pausing in the doorway to glance back over his shoulder at Kevin. Just down the stairs, outside beneath the “sun”, the otherworld desert and all the bizarre and wondrous things waiting to be scientifically appreciated waited.

He turned back to where Kevin sat.

“Strex doesn’t exist anymore.”

“…what?”

“The angels bought them out and had the company dissolved.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s why all the logos were destroyed,” Kevin said, examining one photo.

“Yeah.”

Kevin didn’t say anything else, sorting through the other photos.

Carlos left.

* * *

Kevin watched the lights swirl. They were giggling, cooing at him, delighted by his attention. The aches of his body faded into nothing under their touch, and as long as Kevin didn’t look, didn’t see the reality of his decaying flesh, it was true.

He’d look away in a moment. He was fairly sure he would.

“Kevin!”

He blinked, turning in the direction of Carlos’s voice just as the man himself ran up. The lights hissed, immediately begging him to turn back to them, but Kevin was somewhat distracted from their whispers. Carlos was holding something interesting, an enormous umbrella, which he planted in the ground the moment he reached Kevin’s side.

“What were you doing? Staring at the sky like that?”

“Oh. Flirting, mostly.” He looked up. The umbrella had completely blocked the lights from sight, and already Kevin could feel himself growing stronger. “This is neat. Did you make it?”

Carlos gave him an odd look, then knelt by his side under the umbrella, checking him over for any injury. Kevin let him.

“Yeah, I put it together during my first week here.”

“Out of what, exactly?”

“This and that. It’s rather straightforward, really,” Carlos said, rather than elaborate on how he’d made the umbrella. “You seem to be recovering, at least.”

“The Coloured Lights That Steal Your Essence are not the unthinkable eldritch terror that is destined to eventually consume me,” Kevin said with a shrug.

Carlos seemed to take that as the reassurance it was intended as, and sat back, letting Kevin be. “Even still, you should be more careful. The lights can be tricky to deal with.”

Kevin stared at him.

“Are you concerned for my wellbeing?”

Carlos looked confused.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Why would you be?”

“…should I not be?”

Kevin didn’t really know how to answer that. The recent troubles that had erupted between StrexCorp and Night Vale didn’t feel entirely relevant anymore, not from within this desert.

“Do you have the weather on your phone?” he said instead.

They waited together beneath the giant umbrella until the “sun” reappeared, listening as the weather played.


	2. Nightmares Repeat

Weeks or months or days later, Kevin was walking, following the flicker of a strange light on the horizon. It wasn’t the Smiling God, he already knew that, but it was something new. Or maybe old. Something he knew, but hadn’t seen in a long time.

The bright orb was missing from the tartan sky. It had just blinked, and disappeared, right in the middle of the empty expanse above. Even the Coloured Lights That Steal Your Essence seemed surprised, unsure what to do with this early reprieve. Kevin had simply shrugged and continued walking.

He was tired today. His left leg felt heavier, slower than it should. People were walking alongside him, but they would flicker in and out of sight if he stared at them. Lauren in her formal business sunhat, smiling as she explained why StrexCorp buying the radio station was a good thing. Intern Vanessa staring up from the ground, her eyes vacant, her throat bloody, while another Intern Vanessa stood over her, mouth drawn in a snarl. Grandma Josephine wrapping Kevin’s hands in cooling slime, covering the burned skin while trying to sell him one of her embroidered throw cushions. She stroked his hair and held him close, rocking him until his hands were numb.

Kevin blinked, and the vision faded, leaving him standing exposed in the middle of the desert. He swayed, but began walking again. None of those memories were Now. They served no purpose getting in the way when he was busy. Zohahr didn’t seem to care, weaving around Kevin’s feet and meowing, then floating up to hover beside him, her spines flexing. He had a weird and contradictory urge to pet her and to run from her. Cats were the most lovely creatures. Cats were terrible little beasts not worth the flesh they were made from. Zohahr was the cutest, most adorable little monster he had ever seen. Zohahr was a dead thing, her body bleeding and broken in the mouth of a StrexPet.

Zohahr was mewing in disappointment. Kevin ignored her, and kept walking. She was too confusing.

Ahead, the strange glow was flickering and orange and familiar. It was reflecting off the walls of a narrow gorge, orange light making the orange rock seem to glow from within. He glanced to the sky as he followed the light deeper. It was darker here between the walls, cooler too, the sky nearly blocked from sight. Somewhere the Coloured Lights wouldn’t find you. Relatively safe.

The other people disappeared as he grew closer to the source of the light. Maybe they were frightened by it. Kevin didn’t know.

Around yet another twist, and there it was. A fire. And sleeping beside it, Carlos the Scientist. Kevin moved closer, settling beside him, and his whole body cried at the reprieve. Carlos didn’t react, deep in sleep.

Kevin wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he first met Carlos. Of course, he was a scientist, so Kevin already had a few opinions about _that_ , but Carlos as a man was, well… interesting, he supposed. More attractive in person than he had been in a photo. A photo didn’t show the way Carlos would chatter when he was excited about something, or his fearlessness, or the way he would work and work until he exhausted himself searching for answers only to wake up and do it all again.

Carlos had stared, watched, but he hadn’t said anything about Kevin being some sort of evil monster or a devilish creature, and he hadn’t tried to be polite and say Kevin’s eyes were pleasant to look at when really he was horrified. Carlos simply accepted things as they were.

Kevin wondered what he would look like with a real smile. The Smiling God would certainly appreciate his work ethic. Kevin flipped the blade between his fingers, watching the light catch on its edge. Carlos wouldn’t mind, would he? If Kevin helped him smile?

He put away the blade.

Where was the Smiling God anyway? Kevin had been searching and sending up prayers for months, and not once had he discovered anything remotely like the Smiling God’s glorious light. He wouldn’t give Carlos a better smile when even a lifelong worshipper of the God couldn’t find It. How disappointed would Carlos be, to have a lovely new smile and no God! No promise of an end. Nothing that would devour his body and soul until nothing remained.

Carlos was comfortable to be near. He hadn’t really expected that. And his presence seemed to help keep Kevin’s Whens in the right order, somewhat. Carlos was new, from after Night Vale, after Strex. He couldn’t exist in the same place as them, so obviously if Carlos was here, Strex was not. Not to mention, Carlos’s enthusiasm for this strange desert was absolutely contagious.

Kevin liked it. 

He stared into the fire. It was burning low, mostly glowing coals and ash now, but by Kevin’s estimate it would last another few hours before fully going out. Plenty to keep Carlos warm in this out of the way place. Still, maybe Kevin should stay, just to make sure. It would be rather uncomfortable to wake up in the cold and dark. If the fire burned low, he could fix it up again.

Kevin fiddled with the catches on his fingers, unlatching them. The skin beneath was red and irritated where sand had gotten in between his flesh and the plastic, leaving tiny scratches. He rubbed at his palms, massaging the tense areas. His ankle stump was in worse shape, swollen and sore. Kevin grimaced at the state of his stump socks. Far too ragged and bloodstained. He really needed to find some way to get new ones. Still, it was nice to let his skin breathe for a little while.

Kevin didn’t notice himself falling asleep, only the moment he re-awoke. He froze, assessing his surroundings. Nearby, he could still hear Carlos’ steady breathing, still asleep. The fire was much lower than before, almost out. Above, brighter light was filtering down. The sun orb must be in the sky again. Nothing nearby was moving, except the gentle waves of sandstones dreaming of an ancient ocean. No animals. No monsters. No danger.

Carlos sighed in his sleep, wrinkling his nose like he was waking up. Kevin moved to stand, stumbled, mentally swore—this was why he didn’t take his foot off to sleep!—he grabbed his foot, slotting it back on as quietly and quickly as he could, pocketing his fingers, he could refit those later—he froze again as Carlos shifted, stretching, not enough time to get back around the corner and out of sight—

Kevin leapt onto a wall, scrambling up faster than probably should have been possible on a near smooth surface, but his fingers just seemed to find exactly where to cling, footholds invisible from the ground presenting themselves in his haste. In seconds, he had climbed out of sight, heaving himself onto a high outcropping. He forcibly quietened his breathing, listening past his heartbeat to any noises from below.

Carlos was yawning, picking himself up from the ground. Throwing sand onto the fire. Collecting his various bits of equipment.

Kevin waited, staring at the sky, fully visible from up here, a great expanse streaked with green and blue and gold. Mentally he counted the knives on his person. Had he left one down below? Was there any evidence of his unplanned rest still scattered around Carlos’s campsite? Maybe he should have swept away his footprints.

Why was that important? Why was he up here? Why had he run at the realisation Carlos was waking up? Carlos wouldn’t have cared if he’d found Kevin by his side. Probably. Maybe he would have smiled and said hello, or offered Kevin some of that weird sweet drink he’d made from agave, or—

Why had he even fallen asleep near Carlos? Kevin never slept out here in the desert, even with the sky partially concealed. It wasn’t safe here. It wasn’t secure. Not like the Lighthouse, she would have woken Kevin if she had noticed any of his enemies nearby. Carlos wasn’t—Carlos had already been asleep! Even if he was open to the idea of staying awake in shifts to keep back the monsters, it wasn’t like he could have helped! Not that Kevin needed help. He was fine. He was a survivor. If they found him he’d slaughter them all and laugh. Maybe then the Smiling God would notice.

Carlos seemed to be leaving now. Kevin carefully sat up, just enough to glance over the edge and down to where the other man was. Carlos didn’t look up, disappearing moments later as he headed deeper into the twisting gorge.

His heart was still beating too fast.

Shakily, Kevin kept climbing until he found the top of the cliff, looking around to get his bearings. As ever, the Lighthouse was visible on the horizon. He headed in her direction. She would know where to head to next.

* * *

Carlos was a scientist, and scientists were excellent observers. He observed many things about Kevin over the next few weeks.

One of the first things he observed was that Kevin rarely smiled. Scars curved up from the corners of his mouth right across his cheeks, old scar tissue that had been reopened again and again. The scars were often red, fresh. They must hurt every time he spoke.

Another thing he noticed was Kevin’s eyes. The spaces within them held impossible depths—not in any poetic way, quite literally. They reflected no light, and their edges were hazy and undefined, sometimes shifting to take up more or less of his eye sockets. Once when Kevin was listening to music, Carlos saw a centipede crawl into them, and it never came back out. Kevin didn’t seem to care or notice.

Something which took longer to notice was that Kevin used prosthetics. Carlos was surprised he hadn’t spotted them immediately, but to be fair, during their first couple of encounters, Kevin had been covered in dirt and blood, which was rather distracting. The two last fingers on his left hand, and the middle finger of his right were all prosthetics. His left foot too. Carlos had yet to see how much of his calf was included. It was hidden beneath his clothes. Kevin used them all smoothly, like he was well used to them.

Carlos also observed that Kevin seemed to be following him.

Like Cecil, Kevin was rather good at being sneaky. He moved almost silently, the wind whipping away the sounds of his footsteps, desert heat haze obscuring his form. He had a way of becoming motionless, the dust and rusty red of old blood helping him to blend into the landscape, just another rock. Sometimes it almost seemed like the desert was trying to help him. Carlos was not entirely sure he would have noticed Kevin’s presence at all, except that Kevin didn’t seem to be trying that hard to hide.

“Hi, Carlos.”

“Hello, Kevin.”

“Still doing, ugh, _science?”_

“Of course!”

Kevin grinned, a brief flicker of an expression. He was currently lounging on top of a small boulder, playing with a knife. Carlos walked past the boulder, and moments later heard as Kevin walked up beside him. Carlos shifted his hold on the giant umbrella so that it covered them both, shielding them from the “sunlight”.

“Any luck in your search for the Smiling God?”

“Sadly, no. Not much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Kevin said, staring ahead as they walked. “I’m certain I will find the Smiling God again, when It wills Itself to be found.”

“Still, I hope you don’t have to wait too much longer.”

Kevin smiled again, still brief but warmer this time.

“You always say very reassuring things, Carlos, it’s a lovely quality about you.”

Carlos grinned, readjusting his grip on the giant umbrella. Kevin had a tendency for bluntly stating his thoughts on a matter, whether they were kind or cruel.

“I’ve been seeing a lot more of you recently,” Carlos said. Kevin nodded, humming.

“It’s intentional,” he said. “You see, it occurred to me that, as the Smiling God will be able to find me wherever I am when It chooses to reveal Itself, I might as well explore this desert with you.”

“I see.”

“I thought you might enjoy the company, too. It is a little, ah, boring, without someone to listen to you speak. And the Lighthouse says you can’t hear her voice, so really, all that leaves is me and those distant masked warriors to listen and speak with.”

“Right.”

“Not to mention the obvious benefits as far as companionship in a dangerous environment. Having someone nearby who is at least neutrally invested in your continued wellbeing could only be a benefit.”

“That’s true.”

“And if by some chance, we do encounter the Smiling God, I could probably convince it not to outright destroy you. At the very least, you should have the opportunity to draw a smile and gain Its favour, so it might devour you instead. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely…”

“You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this,” Carlos said.

“I have, yes,” Kevin said, falling silent for nearly a whole minute. “You see the logic of it though?”

“It is very logical. You’ve made some sound conclusions. Maybe you should accompany me while I explore.”

“Well, if you insist.”

Carlos nearly laughed. Really, Kevin was quite an entertaining person to be around. Not nearly as vicious and evil as Cecil made him out to be. Or at least, if he was, he hadn’t been acting like that recently.

They kept walking, Kevin providing a helpful commentary on everything they passed that was of any interest at all. It must be something ingrained into a radio host, describing what they see as they see it. Certainly, Cecil tended to do the same whenever they were going anywhere.

Eventually, they found a strange cactus. Carlos paused, looking it over. It was unlike any other thing he’d seen so far, something unique.

“Kevin, would you like to help me do science?”

Kevin gave a scandalised gasp. “Me? Doing _science?”_

“Yes?”

“Oh, my dear Carlos, I would quite literally prefer to gouge my own eyes out again than participate in _science_. No offense intended, of course. I’m sure you find it very… _entertaining_.”

Carlos planted the umbrella into the ground, and wandered over to the strange cactus, circling it. “You’re aware that saying ‘no offense’ doesn’t actually make it less offensive, right?”

“Well…”

“Especially because I’ll be doing science the entire time I explore this desert? Like, it is the main thing I’ll be doing?” Carlos took a few steps back, snapping photos of the cactus in his phone, and typing some initial observations into the notes app. “Are you sure you actually want to explore with me while I do _science?”_

Kevin didn’t answer, and when Carlos glanced over at him, he was sitting beneath the umbrella with his arms crossed. Carlos shrugged, and got back to examining the cactus, quickly getting caught up in his tests and observations. 

Some undefinable time later, Carlos felt something touch his shoulder. He flinched, spinning and drawing a makeshift weapon as he did.

Kevin deftly deflected the attack.

Carlos blushed.

“Sorry! You startled me!”

Kevin was grinning widely, spinning one of his knives between his fingers. In fact, he looked perhaps the happiest Carlos had seen him.

“Oh, don’t worry about it! You have a very good reaction time!”

“Sorry.”

“And where did you even hide a poleaxe?!”

“Uh.”

“No matter, no matter, I’m forgetting why I wanted your attention!” Kevin circled the cactus to stand on the opposite side to Carlos. “I was wondering if you knew what this thing looks like on the inside?”

“Well… not yet. I haven’t gotten to that yet.”

Kevin hummed, and stabbed the cactus, quickly cutting off one of the smaller limbs. The wound began to ooze blue, and the cactus shivered, curling its other limbs inward, spines growing larger and more numerous.

Carlos blinked, and began to take down more notes, taking new photos of the severed cactus limb and the main plant too.

“It will uncurl when the other lights are back in the sky,” Kevin said.

“You’ve encountered one of these cactuses before?” Carlos asked.

“Yes, their spines have the right sort of edge for a blade,” Kevin said, gesturing to the main cactus. “I made a couple new ones.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure! Also, I’m fairly certain you can eat it with no ill effects. At least, I didn’t die when I ate some last time.”

“What did it taste like?”

“Minty, but in a yellow kind of way. Want to try some?”

Carlos nodded, and Kevin cut off a small piece. It did taste minty, and yellowish. Carlos didn’t like the flavour that much, but Kevin clearly enjoyed it, and ate the rest.

They stayed there, studying the cactus until the other lights were back in the sky and whispering for their attention. When Carlos moved to lie beneath the giant umbrella to rest, Kevin joined him, leaning back against the umbrella’s mast. The “night” was warm and pleasant. Carlos fell asleep to the sound of Kevin humming the weather.

* * *

* * *

“You really are very beautiful,” Kevin said, one day, apropos of nothing.

Carlos paused, turning to look at him.

“Um, thank you, but I’m really not interes—”

Kevin giggled, shaking his head. “No, I know you’re in love with Cecil and he _vociferously_ reciprocates. You are beautiful, though. It is simply a fact.”

Carlos said nothing, though he felt his cheeks turn pink.

They were taking a break from exploring, camping under the umbrella on the edge of a great salt flat. Heat shimmers made the plain look flooded, and sometimes in the distance Carlos could spot fish jumping from the non-existent waters. Kevin threw a knife at one, laughing as it pierced the fish through, and when he went to collect it Carlos was intrigued to see that the fish appeared to be a ghost. Spectral, see-through, partially intangible.

Its dead eyes glared up at Kevin, who hummed and removed the blade. Almost immediately, the fish disappeared. Kevin made a disappointed noise, refocusing on the other distant fish, preparing to throw again.

How did he manage to hit anything with any level of accuracy anyway? How could he see enough of Carlos to say he was “beautiful”? By most measures, Carlos would have said Kevin was blind. Even the third eye on his forehead was partially stitched shut, and the cornea grown cloudy.

“Can I examine your eyes?” Carlos asked.

“Okay,” Kevin said, flipping the blade between two fingers before it disappeared to wherever Kevin kept them while not in use.

Carlos moved closer, sitting right before him. Kevin had the edge of a faint smile about his lips, his body language relaxed and almost lazy, though he knew Kevin would be offended if Carlos mentioned that particular observation. Kevin abhorred laziness.

Carlos activated the torch app on his phone, and shone it into Kevin’s eyes. Kevin didn’t flinch or react, and the light didn’t touch anything within. Carlos might as well have tried to illuminate the void of endless outer space of the night sky. It really didn’t make a lot of sense, considering the size and morphology of Kevin’s head, that it could contain a space like that.

Carlos placed a hand on Kevin’s chin, gently tilting his head to examine his eyes from another angle. Right now, the voidspace was at the largest Carlos had ever seen, spilling down across Kevin’s cheekbones and reaching up across his brows. The edges where flesh met darkness were coiling slowly, like smoke through still air.

“This shouldn’t physically be possible, not to mention physiologically,” Carlos murmured. “Have your eyes always been like this?”

Kevin took a moment to answer, like he was waking up from some daydream.

“Well, I remember my eyes used to be hazel-coloured,” he said.

“They did?”

“Mmhmm.” He sighed, his head falling heavier into Carlos’s hands. “I got these ones after StrexCorp achieved a brutal stranglehold over all of Desert Bluff’s small businesses.”

Carlos frowned, sitting back. Kevin’s eyes swirled in a nearly agitated way for a second when Carlos took his hands away.

“StrexCorp did this?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I did this. I changed them.”

“Really! How? Was it painful? Do you know why they’re like this, all black and void? Also, how deep are they? It’s like there’s a whole pocket dimension tucked inside you! It’s really fascinating!”

Kevin tilted his head to one side, smiling in a way that showed off his teeth.

“Why, Carlos! Who knew you had such a deep interest in the Smiling God!”

“The Smiling God? Are your eyes like your smile scars? Are there other followers of the God with eyes like yours?”

“No one else has eyes like mine,” Kevin said, and he sounded smug. “They are… oh, how would I even begin to explain to a heathen like you? I suppose, you could call them are a blessing. A gift. An exchange?”

“An exchange of what for what?”

Kevin didn’t answer immediately, his smile fading. He examined his own hands, fingers following the gold-painted scars that criss-crossed the skin there.

“It was a happy time,” he said, and Kevin’s voice was smaller than it should have been. “So deliriously happy. I remember laughing and smiling and dancing, until my throat was bleeding and my shoulders unaligned with their sockets. I was crying with laughter, and nearly too exhausted to keep dancing, but I’m never one to refuse a dance, not until every guest has left. We were all very happy.”

Kevin had begun to rub at his left shoulder, like it was hurting. Carlos frowned. Somehow, the way Kevin was talking, the way he was acting, it really didn’t match the content of his speech.

“That sounds… nice?” Carlos guessed.

Kevin shook his head.

“Nice isn’t the right word for it,” he muttered, and just for a second he sounded angry, before it faded back to a dazed cheerfulness. “Happy, happy, happy, we were all very happy, and smiling… and happy, and smiling… and smiling. You know, I told Cecil all about this before… there was a problem with his radio signal, it got tangled with mine… I wonder if that’s happened yet for him?”

“I don’t think so, he would have told me,” Carlos said. It was something of an understatement. Cecil would have been complaining for days. Idly, Carlos wondered if he should mention to Cecil during their next phone call that he had found Kevin in the desert, and that they were travelling together. Usually he was just so excited to hear Cecil’s voice, he’d forget to bring Kevin up at all. “Time is weird.”

Kevin hummed, nodding. “Especially for radio hosts.”

Carlos mentally noted that down as something to investigate in the future, just as soon as he finished learning about Kevin’s eyes.

“You were saying? About that time of smiling and delirious happiness?”

“Mhmm, yes… well… you know I don’t like being unhappy, but having so much happiness… it was a bit _too much,_ if that makes sense. I’d just scream and scream for it to stop. And then one day, I realised that the Smiling God could do that. Make them stop. Just for a moment, to let me catch my breath. So I made myself hollow to invite It in… and It smiled upon me and I was filled up with a glorious and hungry light. And it poured through me and devoured them all… it was the purest form of joy.”

Carlos wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded a lot like Kevin had been through some difficult and painful times, even if he kept saying he had been “happy” then.

“You were filled with light?”

Kevin’s smile faded.

“I don’t know what happened after that, not exactly. I can remember the events exactly as they happened, of course, but I don’t know why things went the way they did. The light… it burned away, and… well, I don’t know… I haven’t found it since.”

“Is that why you’re searching for a light now?”

“Well, I am technically unemployed right now, so I had some free time,” Kevin said with a shrug, his voice back to its normal upbeat timbre.

“That’s true,” Carlos said.

“Do you like them? My eyes?”

“I—”

“You don’t need to, of course, I was simply wondering, because we have been travelling together for some time now, and usually people are very vocal about their dislike for them. But you never say a thing.”

“Well, they’re your _eyes_ , right? You use them for seeing things. It wouldn’t make sense to dislike them just because they’re a little different than the average eye. That would be like hating someone’s hands or something. I do think it’s a little confusing trying to understand _how_ you can see with them, but that doesn’t mean I dislike them.”

“Oh,” Kevin said softly. “That’s… I like them too. My eyes.”

“I’d hope so, especially if they were a gift from your Smiling God.”

Carlos grinned. Kevin mirrored him, before turning away, and under his breath Carlos could just about hear Kevin murmur the word “beautiful” again.


	3. Happy?

“Do you think you could build me something?” Kevin asked the next time they stopped at the Lighthouse.

“Oh, um, maybe? It depends what, I suppose. I really don’t know that much about building buildings—”

Kevin unclipped his fingers and held them up. Carlos blinked, leaning in, one hand already raised in curiosity. Kevin handed them over, watching as Carlos examined them.

“Can you make better ones? These ones hurt to wear, and they’re broken anyway.”

“I… well I can try. It might be quicker just to repair these ones—”

“No. I need new ones. Here, this too,” Kevin said, detaching his left foot.

“These have Strex logos,” Carlos said, taking the foot too.

“Hence, why I need new ones. And these ones were designed to be uncomfortable to wear anyway. As a reminder.”

Carlos looked alarmed, but the expression quickly left as he focused on the problem before him, humming as he worked. Kevin sighed, shuffling back until he could feel the Lighthouse’s walls at his back.

Honestly, it was rather easy to see how Cecil could have fallen in love with Carlos. Carlos was just very easy to love. Cecil would have been powerless to resist it from the first moment Carlos spoke—

Kevin blinked, realising his cheeks felt warm. His heart was light and fluttering. And Carlos was there, oblivious to everything beyond the problem before him and radiant with scientific delight.

“You were right,” Kevin murmured to the Lighthouse.

“Uhhm… Sorry, what was that?” Carlos said, glancing up.

“I wasn’t addressing you,” Kevin said. Carlos blinked, shrugged, and then seconds later he was entranced once more in the problem before him, making rough sketches on the stone.

The Lighthouse snickered. Kevin rolled his eyes. What was left of them, at least.

So what if she was right? It didn’t mean anything. Probably everyone adored Carlos. This was nothing unusual. This was _not_ a _problem_. Everything was fine. Happy. They were happy as things were, travelling together, and saving each other from the more dangerous monsters, and talking and listening to music together. Friend stuff. They were friends.

Carlos gasped, chattering to himself in little excited broken sentence fragments while he scrawled on the floor in charcoal. Somehow he’d pulled apart Kevin’s foot and was examining the circuitry inside and the mechanisms that made it work. It looked like a nest of wires.

“I can do it! I can make you better ones!” Carlos said, beaming and brilliant and beautiful and—

Maybe this was a problem.

* * *

Carlos wasn’t sure exactly why, but after Kevin had made his request for Carlos’s help updating his prosthetics, they stopped travelling together. Kevin practically disappeared, leaving Carlos to wander the desert alone again, and Carlos had no idea why. It was somewhat disheartening, because Carlos had thought they were really becoming friends.

It was lonely, wandering without him. The Desert Otherworld felt a lot harsher in his absence. Terror lingered longer without someone to laugh with when they both escaped to safety. Discoveries felt less worthwhile, without someone to share them with. Well, almost. Science was always a worthwhile pursuit, even if you never shared your discoveries with a single soul. It was still satisfying, still exciting, still all those things, but somehow it felt hollow too. Moments like that were meant to be shared.

Kevin’s absence only made Cecil’s feel sharper. He could ignore it while he worked, but whenever he lay down to sleep, Carlos felt it like a rockfall on his chest, the constant pummelling of small and heavy things crushing bone and organs before settling, the weight of a great new hillside completely concealing him from sight. It was easier to just keep moving, keep walking and working and walking and working until sleep took over on its own. Carlos tried to keep to the canyons or near the Lighthouse for that purpose, somewhere where passing out was a little less risky.

The thing that really got to Carlos was that it was obvious Kevin wasn’t that far away. Carlos kept finding evidence of him, and things that Carlos could only call gifts—skewers of ghost fish set up by unlit fires in coves where the Coloured Lights couldn’t reach, smiling faces carved into neatly sliced yellowmint cactus, a new and well-crafted blade to fix onto his poleaxe. That last one had been frustrating to find. Carlos had only broken the blade on his poleaxe a few hours before while using it to climb a cliff-face. Kevin must have been nearby and watching, and Carlos hadn’t noticed him at all!

One day, Carlos had encountered a large and aggressive creature, which had chased him into a maze of canyons, gnashing teeth and insect-like mandibles in each of its’ four mouths. Even with the new blade Kevin had left him, Carlos’s poleaxe had bounced off its carapace, and the makeshift flamethrower Carlos had thrown together while hiding in a narrow gap between the rocks hadn’t done more than make it angry. Then out of nowhere, a rain of knives found weak places between its exoskeleton and piercing its eyes. The creature had fallen down dead. Upon closer inspection, three of the blades were definitely ones Carlos recognised as part of Kevin’s collection, but even then, he could catch no glimpse of his saviour nearby.

Carlos took to setting up a second place at his campfire whenever he stopped to rest, leaving a second serving of whatever he had found to eat, and staring out into the desert, trying to spot where Kevin was hiding. The food was always gone when Carlos awoke, though whether that was wild animals or Kevin was up for debate.

And then one day Carlos woke up, and Kevin was there, asleep and curled up just out of arm’s reach. Of course, given that he had no eyes, it was a little difficult to tell immediately that Kevin _was_ asleep, but the fact that he didn’t react in the slightest to Carlos’s surprised gasp or the following minute of staring was a fairly strong indication he was unaware of what was going on. Also, sometimes Kevin let out quiet snores.

Carlos sat up slowly. He’d never seen Kevin sleeping before. Kevin always woke before him, and seemed determined not to fall asleep before Carlos did, especially if they weren’t at the Lighthouse. Only circumstantial evidence—Kevin suddenly being in much better spirits, moving quicker on his feet, generally seeming refreshed—supported the idea that Kevin ever slept at all. He wondered how often Kevin had fallen asleep close by, and simply ran off before Carlos had awoken.

Carlos didn’t know why Kevin was so against being seen asleep. Maybe it was some sort of vulnerability he didn’t feel comfortable sharing. He hadn’t removed his prosthetic foot or the fingers, despite how uncomfortable they must be to sleep in. No fussing with physical vulnerabilities if he was suddenly awoken and had to defend himself or run away. He did remove them when he was sleeping at the Lighthouse, didn’t he? Carlos could still count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Kevin without them on.

Maybe Carlos could finally show Kevin the designs for the new prosthetics, the ones that would be more comfortable to wear. Then even if Kevin disappeared again, he could start making them and… and Kevin could collect them while Carlos slept. Or something. Was that the only reason Kevin was still hanging around? To collect the new prosthetics when Carlos finished them?

Carlos had thought they were getting along alright, despite Kevin’s dislike for science. Had that just been politeness? Forced interaction, from being the only two people of around the same height in the Otherworld Desert?

No, Kevin had to have liked him at least a little. He didn’t seem to have the capacity to be consistently polite to people he didn’t like. And Carlos had observed Kevin had been smiling more often than when they’d first met, and each smile lasted for longer too.

Kevin seemed to be waking up. Carlos kept still, sitting in his field of view and watching him for any indication that he had transitioned to full wakefulness. It was an interesting thing to try and work out without the eyes as a reference. Kevin’s eyes were the same dark voids as always, and they didn’t react or change in any way as Kevin began to shift and his breathing quicken, or when Kevin suddenly froze, not breathing at all.

“Hello Kevin.”

“Ah. Hello, Carlos.” Kevin sprang to his feet with the practiced grace of a mountain lion (and only the smallest wince when he put weight on his prosthetic foot), prowling around the small part of their campsite under the shade of the umbrella. “It was nice to see you again, but I really must be going—”

“Wait, Kevin. I want to talk to you.”

Kevin paused mid-step, then spun on his heel, settling cross-legged in front of Carlos. He didn’t say a thing.

“So, um… you sort of disappeared with no warning.”

Kevin didn’t answer. Carlos grimaced.

“I’ve been working on the designs for your new prosthetics, if you still want them.”

Kevin remained silent, but after a moment he nodded once. Carlos swallowed back a sigh, nearly looking away from his friend, except that knowing Kevin’s skill for sneaking, he’d disappear the moment he was out of Carlos’s line of sight. It made something ugly and hurt curl up in his gut. Why did Kevin just disappear!? They were friends! They had been getting on really well, and now…

And now Kevin wasn’t even speaking to him. But was still following him.

“Do you really hate doing science with me that much?” Carlos found himself saying.

Whatever Kevin had been expecting him to say, apparently it wasn’t that.

“Are you upset?”

“Of course I am! My friend has been avoiding me for weeks, and I have no idea why!”

“Oh…” Kevin said.

Carlos sighed.

“I mean, it’s not like you have to tell me or anything. I know we’re mostly travelling together because there’s no one else nearby—”

Kevin was shaking his head.

“I like your company,” he said. “I like you. Believe me, my dear Carlos, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have spent as much as a minute by your side, and I certainly would not have helped you fight off that mantis beast. You’re more to me than just a distraction from boredom or anything like that.”

Carlos nodded. “Then why did you just disappear?”

“I was still around.”

“Yes, I know,” Carlos said, rolling his eyes. “But you kept hiding from me. I might as well have been alone here.”

“You weren’t, though.”

“Yes, but—” Carlos growled, stalking away to grab his things. “You were _avoiding_ me! It _felt_ like being alone, but worse because I knew that you actually were there, so technically you’re right and I wasn’t actually alone but I couldn’t talk to you about anything or listen to your thoughts on anything and we couldn’t share music and you couldn’t tell me what the Lighthouse was saying—”

Carlos huffed, grabbing the umbrella’s post and pulling it free of the ground.

“It felt like being alone,” Carlos repeated, glancing at Kevin, who was still sitting cross-legged and watching Carlos, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“…I see!” With a bright grin, he sprang to his feet. “Well then I shall endeavour to ensure you can always enjoy the pleasure of my company! Where are you headed to next?”

Carlos stared at him. “You’re not just going to hide again the moment you’re out of my sight?”

“Nope! It wasn’t a particularly effective strategy anyway, I’ll have to think of something new.”

“An effective strategy for what?”

“Oh, that hardly matters. Would you like me to carry the umbrella? I’d say it’s long overdue my turn.”

“Yeah, you can carry it if you want. An effective strategy for what?”

“Carlos, you know that doesn’t work on me.”

“Yes it does. An effective strategy for what?”

“It was hardly anything relevant to now. Look! Have you catalogued that type of scraggly plant before?”

“Yep! It’s a type of acacia. An effective strategy for what?”

“It was a personal matter!”

“You avoided me for weeks and weeks without warning or letting me know you were safe. An effective strategy for what?”

“You have an amazing talent for being irritating, it always catches me by surprise.”

“Thank you. An effective strategy for what?”

“I’m just going to not answer you anymore at all.”

“An effective strategy for what?”

“You know, the more you say those words, the more meaningless they become?”

“An effective strategy for what?”

Kevin snickered instead of answering. Covering his mouth with one hand, he tried to stifle the sound, but it didn’t work in the slightest, and within seconds he was laughing so much he could barely stand, leaning heavily against the umbrella’s post. Carlos grinned as the infectious sound swept over him.

“I—” Kevin laughed again, hiding his face against the post, shoulders shaking. Carlos circled him, trying to find his face again, and Kevin giggled, spinning around as best he could to keep Carlos on the far side.

“What? An effective strategy for what?”

Kevin snorted, glancing at him with a wide grin.

“You’re so obstinate!” Kevin said around a laugh. “Alright. Carlos, there is no effective strategy I can think of, no action you or I could take, that could possibly reduce how much I like you. It’s… you’re just so _you!”_

“Well, who else would I be?” Carlos said, still smiling. It faded a little as he processed the rest of what Kevin said. “You were avoiding me to try to like me less?”

“It didn’t work in the slightest. I think I might simply have to live with this affliction.”

“Affliction?” Carlos said, and there was definitely a note of hurt in his voice. “Liking me is an affliction?”

Kevin hummed, still leaning heavily on the post. “It is when the way we like each other doesn’t quite match up. You’re in love with my double, and he loves you back. And I... well, I wouldn't quite use the same word yet to describe the nature of my affection for you, but... it's certainly building to something like that...”

“…oh.”

“Yes, well… oh, no need to look so glum! It’s hardly your fault! Or, I suppose it is, but it isn’t like you could have prevented it, other than by acting utterly unlike yourself!” Kevin lifted the umbrella again, resting it against his shoulder. “Shall we get moving?”

Carlos blinked, stepping up beside him. “It doesn’t bother you at all? Hanging out together even though…?”

“I said affliction, didn’t I?” Kevin gave a strange half-shrug. “Of course it bothers me, I'd never have stopped travelling with you if it didn't."

"Oh, right. But it wasn't an effective strategy."

"Not in the slightest! If anything, it's made things worse. Also it is significantly harder to ensure you aren't murdered while also keeping a distance and staying out of your sight. And honestly, Carlos, while I admire your commitment to your work, you really should be sleeping more often to remain at peak efficiency. Your eyes are nearly as dark as mine!"

"It would be easier to fall asleep in a hostile desert if I knew there was someone moderately interested in my continued well-being keeping watch," Carlos said, levelling a glare in Kevin's direction. 

"...point taken."

"And when was the last time you actually removed your prosthetics?"

"I'll have you know I took them off to clean the grit from the circuits while you were camped by that big red rock."

"So well over 18 hours, then. No wonder you're limping."

"I most definitely am not."

"Right." Carlos stopped walking, rubbing at his temples, before changing direction. "Right. We are going back to the Lighthouse. And when we're there, I am going to take a nap. And you are going to take off your prosthetics and _keep them off_ , for at least as long as I'm asleep."

"I don't actually need to take them off, StrexCorp specifically designed them for weeks of wear at a time—"

"You're going to take them off and keep them off until I'm satisfied that any irritation, swelling, or pain has been treated and you've fully rested."

"...you know when I said that you acting as yourself made me like you more? I take it back."

"No, you don't."

"You're right, I don't. I like you more now than ten seconds ago."

"Kevin—"

“I know! But it's fine! Everything will be fine. We can still be friends, and hang out together, and be happy like that. I’m certain, with time, the situation will resolve itself soon anyway.”

* * *

* * *

Upon reflection, the situation was not going to resolve itself soon.

Back at the Lighthouse and several unproductive (but restful) days later, Carlos was wandering his lab, muttering about something. Sometime during their time apart, Carlos had set up something of a temporary lab space where he could do his science. It mostly consisted of a table, some crude shelving filled with random objects from the desert, and bits of junk they had found under the sand. Some of it was in surprisingly good condition, like the microscope.

Kevin liked the microscope. It was amazing what things looked like when you examined them closely enough. Who knew blood was full of so many little red capsules!? And all of the little monstrous things that lived in water! He wasn’t sure what exactly Carlos was working on now, only that he had been lost in deep thought since nearly the moment they’d woken up hours before. It seemed to be some sort of construction project. Involved a lot of hammering, and sparks, and arc-welding.

Carlos had strong hands.

Kevin turned to stare at the ceiling, humming along with the weather. It was a slower tune today, bright and melancholy like the sky. He could feel the Lighthouse watching him ignore Carlos.

It wasn’t going to resolve itself at all most likely, especially if Carlos kept on _doing_ things and just—just _being like that._ Not that he’d ask Carlos to act any different. But each hour it seemed like he noticed something new, something entrancing. Did Carlos really have to roll up his sleeves like that while he worked? Was he aware of how much Kevin just wanted to brush away the hair that kept falling into his eyes?

Maybe Carlos did know. Maybe that was what Cecil would do, if he was in Carlos’s lab back in Night Vale. Maybe these were what thoughts Cecil would think. Maybe, when Cecil woke up by Carlos’s side each day, he would be overcome with wonder, and would lean in to kiss his boyfriend awake. Maybe Cecil would stay up late, reading about strange science things, just so he could understand what Carlos was talking about and ask better questions.

If he didn’t, Kevin would be _having words_ with him.

At some point during his contemplation, his gaze had drifted back to Carlos. Lovely, beautiful Carlos. Oblivious and meticulous. Tenacious. Kind. Oh, and so intelligent too! A crafter of so many things, clever things, deadly things—

“I might take a walk,” Kevin said, springing to his feet. Carlos didn’t notice as he left, too caught up in his science.

The air was hot, baked beneath the endless light. Sand and rock reflected it all back up, heat and light, a hazy shimmer that hurt to stare at, but not in the way Kevin wanted. He rubbed at his cheeks. It had been days since he had last redrawn his smile. Fresh blood always worried Carlos. Gentle Carlos.

Kevin started walking, heading towards the shadowy pillar on the horizon. The winds had whispered about old oak doors in that direction, and he had a hunch about one of them.

Many hours later he returned, wandering light-headed on unsteady feet.

The world felt unreal. He could see the gaps between, white space and black letters forming shape and substance. His breathing was wrong, he knew that much.

The Coloured Lights That Steal Your Essence were chattering again, saying such lovely things. Carlos didn’t like it when he flirted with them.

Carlos. He had to find Carlos.

Kevin’s senses were flooding together. He could taste white fire in his mouth, see as it burned through the walls, melted the glass, the fear in Lauren’s eyes. He could feel Spencer kissing him, both of them sneaking out of class to hide behind the bleachers, it was only Math anyway, Spencer was much more interesting. He could hear Cecil’s Voice, resonant with the power of a whole town, a cat in his arms and angels by his side.

Kevin stumbled into the wall, recognising the Lighthouse’s quiet concern. He rested his forehead against her, focusing on all he knew to be Now. Sandstone under his hands. The desert to his back. The wind in his ears. Coloured Lights in the sky—nope, don’t look now. He wouldn’t remember when to look away right now.

Keeping a hand on the wall, he slowly made his way to the door and indoors, out of the sky’s reach.

Carlos was nearby. Had he gone to sleep? How long had Kevin been gone?

Still leaning heavily against the stone, Kevin breathed. Carlos was there, asleep at his lab table, a screwdriver in one hand. Passed out during work. He was such a dedicated worker.

Kevin breathed, sliding down the wall. Wall. Waalllllllll. Wol? Waul.

He giggled. Letters were weird. They were meaningless scrawl that made you hallucinate sounds that made longer noises that described the entirety of existence. Stories. They were all stories.

His head hurt.

The doors had been a bad idea. Why hadn’t he just stuck to avoiding all of them like normal? Now his Times had gotten all mixed up again.

Carlos would want to know about the door. The Night Vale door. Night Vale Community Radio, StrexCorp’s latest acquisition! “So you’re saying that there will be a secret revolution against Strex? Hang on, I’m jotting down a few things.” No, no, no, that was months ago—Kevin threw a flurry of knives at the mantis beast, hoping desperately Carlos was still out of its reach—that wasn’t Now either.

You’re at the Lighthouse, the Lighthouse said.

“Thanks,” Kevin groaned, rubbing at his surprisingly dry cheeks. Hadn’t he just renewed his smile—no, that was days ago.

With wobbly hands, he drew his best knife, tracing the familiar scars, sighing at the familiar sensation of hot blood running over his skin. As expected, no Light found him, the Smiling God’s attention was elsewhere. But the feel of it was grounding. Here. Now. The Lighthouse. Carlos. The Lab. All the other Wheres and Whens settled back into their correct places.

You’re okay? the Lighthouse asked.

The black letters had all disappeared back to whatever plane of reality they existed on, taking their empty white space with them.

“I’m fine,” Kevin sighed, exhaustion sweeping over him in the wake of the attack. “M’mory issue. All reso—ohhlved now,” he said with a yawn.

What made you sick? she asked.

Kevin shrugged, head lolling. “Jus’ hap’ns s’metimes,” he slurred, slumping onto his side. “y’ve got c’mf’tble fl’rs.”

The Lighthouse was still talking but he couldn’t really make out what she was saying.

He really should tell Carlos about that door.

* * *

“It would be so much easier to work if I had a proper lab!” Carlos said, throwing himself onto the pile of sand where Kevin was lounging. Kevin laughed, grinning at him.

“Would you ever come exploring with me again if you did?” he asked. “I’d never see hide nor hair of you again! You’d just be inside all day doing your _science.”_

“Well… I’d come out sometimes. To collect new samples.”

“Of course! How could I forget the new samples?”

Carlos rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

“Your new prosthetics are ready. I just need to borrow you for a moment to make sure they’ll fit right and make some sizing adjustments.”

“Oh! Show me?”

They went inside.

“Behold!” Carlos said, gesturing to them with a flourish. Kevin gasped, bouncing on the spot.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous!”

"You like them?"

"Carlos, what part of gorgeous don't you understand? Oh, they look so..." Kevin trailed off, stepping forward to trace reverent fingers over the smooth golden surfaces. Carlos grinned. 

"I made them using mantis beast chitin, so they should be incredibly tough and resistant to almost anything you might encounter in this desert. And the nerve response was pretty easy to replicate, so it should feel about as sensitive to touch, pressure, heat and cold as your last ones."

"Is this a built-in knife!?"

"There was some extra space once I condensed the circuitry."

"I want to try them!"

"Neat! I just need to make some minor adjustments to your stump pegs, and then we can fit them!"

Within half an hour, Kevin had abandoned his old prosthetics and was strutting around on his new foot, wiggling his fingers. Carlos had never seen him look so delighted, or smile for so long. It made Carlos glad. Kevin deserved to have things that made him happy. Actually happy, and not whatever StrexCorp had told him happiness was. 

"I need to test these!" Kevin said. "Let's track down Doug and Alisha! I bet I could beat them both in a duel with these!"

"Sure, let me grab my notebook! It'll be great to see how they work in action!"

It was. Kevin fought Doug to a draw, and lost to Alisha, but they were both very impressed with both the technology and Kevin's speed and agility.

By the time the sun disappeared, Carlos had made a short list of improvements to implement, and Kevin had grown used to wearing them. They would definitely be going near the top of Carlos's favourite inventions he'd made.


	4. Let Them In

“Do you miss him a lot?”

“Every day and every hour,” Carlos said, his voice forlorn even if he didn’t pause in his work at all. Like it was constant, an ache he overlooked and pushed aside and worked right through, the same as Kevin used to with his old prosthetics. “There isn’t much that won’t remind me of him. The similarities between here and Night Vale. The differences too. Discovering anything new. I’d listen to his show every time he came on, you know? Some of the other scientists would tease me about it, having heart eyes at work. Which isn’t really all that scientifically accurate but metaphorically speaking—"

“You’ve got them now.”

“Yeah…” Carlos said with a secret smile, and this time he actually did stop working for a second, staring into some other time, some memory of Kevin’s double. Kevin turned away. It felt a lot like intruding on something private. After a moment, Carlos sighed, and Kevin heard him begin working again, the quiet clinks of glass vials and beakers as he poured brightly coloured liquid from one to the other.

“Why don’t you go back to him, then?” Kevin asked, tapping his fingers on the walls. The Lighthouse gave him an incredulous look, and Kevin glared at her. He wasn’t hiding the Night Vale door, it was right there in the open, Carlos could easily have found it. He probably had found it. He was a very good scientist, and scientists discovered things, and the door was right over there, easily discoverable. It was under a giant pillar of shadow! The only other constant in the desert other than the Lighthouse! Kevin didn’t need to bring it up, didn’t need to tell Carlos, Carlos definitely had to know it was there.

Kevin’s stomach twisted like it had when he’d eaten that weird plant after Carlos warned him not to.

“I want to, but it isn’t quite that easy…” Carlos said. “When the rebellion was taking place, everything and everyone that belonged in Night Vale needed to be on that side, or the doors wouldn’t close. Everything that wasn’t meant to be in Night Vale was locked out. And, well… I’m on this side of the doors instead of that one…”

“It could have been an accident. Doors aren’t widely regarded for their superior intellects.”

Carlos snorted, before sighing in that sad-sounding way that made Kevin’s skin feel like it was burning.

“I’d still need to find the right door,” Carlos said. “Maybe I’ve been a bit distracted lately. This whole place is just so fascinating to study! It’s even more interesting than Night Vale, and I hadn’t known that was possible! I… I need to check more doors though. To find the right one. Then I can work out if I’m even meant to be back in Night Vale.”

Kevin didn’t say anything, didn’t look in Carlos’s direction. Carlos didn’t know. But Kevin had already known that, hadn't he? As much as it didn't make sense that Carlos would have never found the door, Kevin knew he hadn't. That had been the whole reason he'd gone exploring, wasn’t it? Investigate the shadowy pillar to see if the Night Vale door was there, stumble home to tell Carlos where the door was so he could return to Night Vale, return to Cecil, presumably be much happier and marginally safer, and completely out of Kevin's reach. No more temptation. No more longing, at least for one of them. He had been planning on telling Carlos right then! As soon as he got back! Had nearly brought it up the moment he'd woken up, but then Carlos had finished his new foot and fingers and Kevin had to try them on, and then...

He hadn’t purposely concealed the door’s existence! It just hadn’t come up! They were happy enough here, Carlos with his half-finished lab and Kevin just wandering around, following wherever Carlos led and protecting him and singing for him when Carlos felt sad and pretending he didn’t notice how often Carlos would hug his phone to his chest, replaying Cecil’s voicemails over and over and weeping—

Fuck.

“I might have found it. Your door.”

“What? When! You did? Where is it!?” Carlos said in a rush, abandoning his current work. The Lighthouse smiled approvingly at Kevin. He flipped her the bird, but she just laughed. Mentally bracing himself, he turned to Carlos.

The desperate hope in his eyes put glass into Kevin’s lungs.

“It’s at the base of the shadowy pillar on the horizon. I found it weeks ago.”

“What shadowy pillar?”

“What do you mean ‘what shadowy pillar’, _the_ shadowy pillar! The one the Coloured Lights avoid?”

Carlos just seemed confused, so they went outside and Kevin pointed to the shadow pillar. Carlos looked, but he only grew more upset rather than relieved.

“There’s nothing there!”

“You can’t see it? It’s so obvious! Try staring from the corner of your eye!”

“Kevin, if this is a bad joke, it isn’t funny.”

“Come on! I’ll show you the door myself!”

They began walking quickly, and Carlos was so eager to get moving he didn’t even stop to grab the notebook he’d left back in the lab or his poleaxe or the umbrella. The moment he knew the right direction, Carlos rushed ahead, focused in a way Kevin hadn’t seen on him before. No interesting rock or plant or animal caught his eye at all, nothing distracted him from the horizon.

This was going to be it, wasn’t it. Carlos was leaving. These were their last hours together, half-running across a desert in near silence, and then Carlos would leave and Kevin would be alone.

Carlos stopped moving. Kevin ended up a few steps ahead of him, and turned back to face him, head tilted in a question.

Carlos just blinked repetitively, staring through Kevin.

“You said weeks…” he murmured.

Kevin winced. Maybe silence hadn’t been a bad thing.

“Yes.”

“Weeks… as in you knew the door was there for weeks, and you didn’t tell me?”

“…yes.”

“Why not?”

Kevin opened his mouth, but found he had no words. Was there any explanation that would suffice? Any reasoning that made sense? Anything at all that wasn’t born of a selfish desire to enjoy Carlos’s company for a few more weeks? Kevin gave up. He shrugged.

"Was it before or after I finished your prosthetics?"

"A few days before."

Carlos swallowed, closing his eyes tightly and covering his mouth. He nodded once and began walking again.

“Carlos?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Please just show me where the door is.”

Kevin nodded, and led the way.

They found the doors exactly where Kevin had last left them, which was unusual for an old oak door. Kevin was fairly certain these ones were permanent fixtures of the desert, the same way that the Lighthouse was, rather than the temporary and flickering things the other doors were. Shadows seemed to seep from the edges of one of them into the air around, turning the sand violet. The other looked normal, just a regular door, if it weren’t for the fact it was hovering several inches above the ground.

Kevin didn’t like that door. It filled Kevin up with that old happiness, the kind he’d been feeling during the moments after he was dragged away, broken and bleeding, to relax in a StrexHotel.

“The door to Night Vale,” Kevin said, gesturing at the purplish one.

“What’s the other door?” Carlos said, the first words from him in hours.

Kevin turned to it. Just from staring at it, he could feel all his Whens begin to rebel and wander away from their places in Time. The view concealed behind it was hissing at him, daring him to throw himself off the precipice beyond. He didn’t like that door.

“Desert Bluffs,” Kevin said. The door stood there, acting innocent.

All around him, the desert had grown still, watching. Sand was grasping at his feet as best it could, the wind whispering pleas in his ear, telling him not to open it. Kevin ignored them and stepped closer, even as his mind rebelled. His fingers traced over old engravings, barely visible in the wood anymore, where they should be radiating golden light. That twisting feeling was back at full force, like someone was reaching right into his guts and squeezing, winding his entrails into rope.

“If you knew the door was here, why didn’t you just go back to Desert Bluffs?”

“Your door is there. Why don’t you go back to Night Vale? Why are you still here?”

“I… it’s not the same. I wasn’t born in Night Vale. I’m not part of that place, not in the same way you’re part of Desert Bluffs.”

“Desert Bluffs hasn’t been Desert Bluffs in years. We were StrexCorp. And now everyone is gone.” Carlos looked surprised. “Haven’t you seen the photos in the Lighthouse? Everyone left. The city is empty.”

With a grand flourish, Kevin swung the door open.

* * *

Carlos walked forwards slowly, staring into the world beyond the door. Desert Bluffs. The town that was the bane of Cecil’s existence.

The door looked out from the top of a hill, in a view that should have been spectacular. The whole of the city was stretched out below, buildings Carlos could easily pick out as a City Hall, strip malls, a clock tower that only looked partially corporeal, floating in the air. Glassy towers grew out of the older sandstone buildings like aggressive fungal fruiting bodies enveloping a host in mycelium. Even from here he could pick out triangle logos.

It was grand. It was glittering.

It was…

It wasn’t. A city made up entirely of the empty spaces where things had once been. Glass cracked and broken. Streets filled with drifting sand. Buildings made of nothing but burnt timbers. Broken things.

And not a person in sight.

“It’s the view from my old radio station. Same as I could see from the window.”

Carlos blinked, turning to Kevin. He was sitting cross-legged, leaning against the doorframe and staring back in the direction of the Lighthouse. Somehow, the voids of his eyes were darker than usual, his nails digging deep into the flesh of his arms. Impossibly, his cheeks were wet, tear tracks leaving streaks through the old dry blood.

Carlos knelt beside him.

Fitting a hand over Kevin’s, he gently encouraged Kevin’s grip to loosen, grimacing at the sight of bloody fingertips, little puncture wounds in his arm. Kevin pretended like he hadn’t noticed Carlos at all, though the act was somewhat undermined when he tangled his fingers with Carlos’s and squeezed his hand.

“Making you metal fingernails may not have been the best idea,” Carlos said.

Kevin gave a wobbly smile, still staring ahead.

“They’re so useful, though,” Kevin said, his voice thick, flexing his free hand to show off equally bloody fingertips. “They slice things so much more easily than regular nails.”

“Which isn’t always a good thing,” Carlos said, prodding at one of the small wounds. “Like if you’re on a date that went really well. Accidentally doing this kind of damage in an intimate area could be a little awkward, especially if you were—uh—"

“There is that,” Kevin snorted, covering his mouth with his free hand. After a moment he sighed, turning his face to the sky. “Oh gosh, look at me, I’m such a fucking mess! An obsolete, empty vessel, and a terrible friend, too. You know, I actually went looking for the door as a gift for you? And then I didn't even tell you, I kept it secret, and I know you can't be happy with me right now but you're still trying to help me and—Carlos, you really should just go through your door."

Carlos glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back to Kevin. He didn't particularly want to address the secret-keeping, not right now at least. He wasn't sure how he could discuss it and remain gentle enough to help Kevin through whatever this was. 

“Um… If it helps at all, you aren’t completely empty.”

“No?”

“Yeah, because once I saw a centipede crawl into your eyes while you were taking a nap and it never came back out, so at the very least there is one centipede inside you.”

“What? Really!”

Carlos nodded.

“Huh,” Kevin said, turning back to stare at the Lighthouse. “You know, some depictions of the Smiling God associate It with centipedes. The many legs thing and wiggling through the dirt, consuming the flesh of all it encounters that it can overpower.”

Kevin traced along the edge of his eye voids.

“You still want to learn more about how my eyes work, don’t you, Carlos? Watch closely.”

Carlos did, and was absolutely astounded as Kevin reached _into_ the space that made up his eyes. His whole hand disappeared within the darkness, and a moment later he retracted it, holding onto the squirming body of a still living centipede. The arthropod quickly twisted around, pincers nipping deep into the flesh of Kevin’s palm.

“What the fuck! That was—what!” Carlos said, grabbing Kevin’s face between his hands.

* * *

“You’re so impossible!” Carlos said, except he sounded absolutely delighted at the idea, his eyes nearly sparkling, smile wide and incredulous and—

Kevin couldn’t breathe.

“You should try the Night Vale door,” Kevin said quickly, trying quite hard to ignore the fact that Carlos’s hands were holding his face close enough to kiss.

Carlos frowned, sitting back on his heels as he looked over a shoulder at the door. Kevin took a steadying breath, focusing on the feeling of the centipede still digging its pincers into his hand.

He really had to be unaware, right? How easily he enraptured those around him? The way his delight sent Kevin spinning dizzy? How the idea of anything happening to Carlos was absolute anathema? How Kevin was fairly certain Carlos had saved his life a dozen times since they had met? That Carlos's presence was the only thing keeping him here in this When and not spiralling across Times?

At least sitting here, he couldn't see the Desert Bluffs door pressing against his back. Couldn't hear it speak. The Lighthouse was calling to him from across the desert, the loudest he'd ever heard her, trying to coax him away from the door. Soon, he promised her, and afterwards he'd never need to go near the doors again. The wind squirmed with delight and kissed his cheek, chattering about all the places they could go instead. Kevin smiled. The wind, the Lighthouse, the desert, the sun, they would all remain once Carlos stepped through the door.

When Carlos got around to stepping through the door. He was still just staring at it.

“It would open for you, I’m certain of it,” Kevin said. He pulled at the centipede, encouraging it to release its bite. The little thing flailed wildly, sprinting away as fast as its many legs would carry it the moment Kevin placed it onto the sand.

“I’m not so certain,” Carlos said.

“Why wouldn’t it? Cecil would be happy to see you again, and in Night Vale, his opinions hold _influence.”_

Carlos nodded, still looking troubled. “I suppose a scientist would test the door to see if it opens for him.”

Carlos stood, approaching the door. His fingers hesitated inches from the door handle.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What then?” Carlos said, spinning back to drop beside Kevin. “And what if it does? What if I step through that door and I can never find my way back here again? There’s still so much to study here!”

“But your Cecil is there.”

Carlos bit his lip, staring at the earth.

“You could come too. To Night Vale. Instead of staying here alone.”

Kevin snorted, shaking his head.

“Night Vale might be your kind of place but it is most certainly not for me! Ugh, no one even thinks about the Smiling God there! And those awful soft meat crowns, how is that an appropriate form of worship? No, I’ll just stay here with the Lighthouse.”

“What, just sleeping on the floor and wandering the desert alone?”

“Well, why not? I was doing that for months before we met.” 

“You could try to go back to Desert Bluffs, it would be difficult to rebuild but—”

“No!” Kevin said sharply, springing to his feet. “No, I can’t go back. That Desert Bluffs doesn’t exist anymore! The time for rebuilding is over!”

“Then come to Night Vale, just temporarily, just until we can sort something—”

“No,” Kevin said, falling still. Carlos stood before him, having jumped to his feet to meet Kevin head-on. “No. Even if Desert Bluffs could somehow miraculously return to the way it was before, I… Well, I was made different. I wouldn’t fit there now, and neither would anyone else who lived through Strex. We need somewhere else to be. Somewhere new..."

Kevin trailed off, staring across the expanse of the desert to the Lighthouse, her beacon pulsing like a heartbeat. "I think maybe… maybe here would be a good place to start. Somewhere near the Lighthouse. She’d like that, the company."

Carlos was frowning, but he nodded. He turned back to stare at the Night Vale door another moment, gave a shuddering breath, then began to walk in the direction of the Lighthouse. Kevin watched him, absolutely bewildered.

“Carlos? Your door?”

“It won’t be going anywhere, will it?”

“No?”

“It can wait, then. I know I said I don’t know much about building buildings, but I know a little. Enough to get started.”

“Get started on what? Carlos!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am still very upset that you kept this secret from me, especially for so long after you found it. It hurts. And I'm not sure I like you right now. But we _are_ friends, and I will not leave this desert until you at the very least have a house with a bed, instead of sleeping on the floor or the ground or whatever slightly more comfortable pile of rocks you’ve discovered lately.”

“You… what?”

“Keep up, Kevin! The Coloured Lights That Steal Your Essence will be out soon, and I want to at least have an idea of where we’re building by then.”

Kevin gave one last look to the doors and then abandoned them, jogging to Carlos’s side.

* * *

As it turned out, nothing which Carlos already knew about making buildings was of any use in a desert where none of that equipment or building materials existed.

Which meant loads and loads of experiments were in order!

After around a week, Carlos’s conclusions were these:

  * Sandstone is a lot harder to cut into brick shapes if you didn’t have some kind of explosives or diamond-edged circular saws.
  * Loose sand is a terrible construction material for building walls.
  * Mud and clay are far more effective as walls when mixed with plant matter.
  * Some cactuses had dry woody cores that were useful for building with.
  * Some cactuses were friendly, and with a little rapport they were happy to form their limbs into living walls to shelter their softer, fleshier friends.
  * When it rains, the entire desert became a shallow sea.



That last one wasn’t so much of an experimental conclusion as it was an observation. Kevin and Carlos had hidden in the Lighthouse as the downpour grew worse, watching as their efforts of the last few days were washed away.

“So, we need to make everything storm-proof too,” Carlos mused. One of the friendlier cacti floated past, waving a tentacle as it sunk beneath the water and swam away.

“The Lighthouse says storms like this are rare. Usually if there’s precipitation at all, it’s blood or acid.”

“Definitely need to make things storm-proof then.”

When the sea dried up a few days later (revealing hundreds and hundreds of angry fish ghosts) Kevin and Carlos went to the Salvage Pit. At least, that’s what Carlos called it, the little zone that was just absolutely littered with random junk, old toasters, bits of cars, around half of an electron microscope (the left half). It really helped building go quickly.

Sometimes, Carlos would visit the door to Night Vale. He didn’t bring Kevin with him on those trips. Carlos would stand there and stare at the door, daring himself to try and open it. The door would stand there, sometimes half buried in sand, sometimes floating above the ground, leaking shadows. It had been so long since Carlos had seen an actual night, actual darkness, the stars, the moon, the massive shape of the dark planet floating right above the city and seemingly close enough to touch.

Would Night Vale let him back, though? Kevin certainly seemed to think so, but Kevin also had an unshakeable confidence that the world would work out in the favour of everyone he liked, in spite of whatever disasters occurred to them in the short term. It was a little weird, considering what little Carlos knew of his history with StrexCorp, but he wasn’t going to question Kevin too deeply on it. So far, it did seem to be true, in as far as their adventures through the desert together.

The door felt cool to the touch, which was a special sort of alluring in a place this hot. Carlos would rest his head against the door, and imagine Cecil was just there, on the other side, that if Carlos spoke Cecil would hear him and he’d say Carlos’s name in that special way that sounded like floating love-hearts and beakers with colourful liquids, and the door would dissolve and they would fall into each other again.

Carlos was never brave enough to try the door handle.

Kevin never mentioned the doors again.

His new lab was a good one. Not as good as the one in Night Vale, but leagues better than the temporary setup he’d had in the Lighthouse. Kevin had enthusiastically helped build the lab despite all of his verbal aversion to _science_ , and had quickly fallen into questioning what the purpose of every part of the lab was, his curiosity overpowering any distaste he had.

“You know, a strong sense of curiosity is one of the core requirements for science,” Carlos had said as he fiddled with the electron microscope, trying to fix up some way to replicate the right half out of junk.

“Must you insult me?”

“You secretly love this stuff.”

“Carlos, it is perfectly possible to hold a healthy curiosity for how the world works and pursue that interest in a strategic, methodical and above all diligent manner without it being _science.”_

“I suppose you’re right. Maybe you’re just interested in natural philosophy.”

 _“Exactly!_ See? No need to go around accusing people of liking science!”

Carlos smothered a laugh, and refrained from explaining what exactly natural philosophy was.

Doug and Alisha stopped by often, along with some of their masked warrior brethren. They would help with the construction, helping to shift some of the heavier and unwieldly large bits of junk. Alisha also had a talent for crafting, and Carlos often collaborated with them when he was designing new home appliances and equipment. So far, together they’d made a microwave, a fridge, and a radio, which unfortunately didn’t work since there were no radio signals nearby.

One day, Carlos came back from visiting the Night Vale door to find a giant serpentine structure had been erected on high scaffolding, rollercoaster railing looping and spiralling and climbing in high arcs. Parts of it were on fire.

Carlos watched the rollercoaster cart travel around the circuit for nearly ten minutes solid. It was hypnotic.

Three days later, and the rollercoaster was showing no signs of slowing down. Doug sheepishly explained that none of them had remembered to add a breaking system to the coaster. Carlos mentally added that to his list of things to work on. It would probably be a little difficult to install, given that the rollercoaster never stopped moving.

And then Carlos figured out how to project an incorporeal image of his conscious self into Night Vale, and for the very first time in months and months, he was able to see Cecil in person.

* * *

The day they broke ground on Kevin’s radio station was also the day Carlos declared the mezcal he’d been brewing was ready to be taste tested. Carlos had set up several batches, each made from a different type of cactus they had found in the desert. Batch one and batch two were both sort of horrible, but they were strong. Batch three, which had been made from the yellowy minty cactus, had such a fantastic flavour Kevin just had to take a second taste! Carlos seemed to prefer batch one, the one made from the cactus that liked to eat giant masked warriors.

By the time The Colourful Lights That Steal Your Essence had appeared in the sky, they were both a little tipsy, and building up a bonfire while the weather played loudly in the background through Kevin’s new phone. Absolutely appalling, the amount of perfectly functional technology people would just throw away into a massive pit of sand in the middle of an otherworldly desert!

“Caaarlossss!!! Carlos, listen!!! This is the best bit!!!” Kevin said, grabbing Carlos’s hand to drag him to his feet. Carlos giggled, stumbling after him as Kevin led them in a clumsy dance that mostly consisted of swinging around in circles. At the jazzy bit, Kevin attempted to do a pirouette under Carlos’s arm, but Carlos tripped into him and they both fell over.

The song had ended and another was playing before they stopped laughing enough to stand up again.

Some undefinable time later, and they were catching their breath between dances, or at least Kevin was, because Carlos was babbling energetically about the latest improvements to the lab like he didn’t need air.

“We finally got the coloured beakers and vials to all start bubbling! It’s an actual real lab now!! And I have a computer now—"

Kevin nodded along, even though he had been there when they built that particular lab improvement. Really, he had no idea what song was playing anymore. He didn’t care to listen to much other than Carlos’s obvious delight. Oh, may they both be devoured by the Smiling God while the world ends in fire, Carlos was so beautiful! The energy around him was a spiral of white light stained violet, the brightest thing in sight, invigorating, illuminating. The music changed, and Carlos gasped, springing to his feet, grinning widely and singing along even though he clearly didn't know the words.

Many drinks later, and the fire was burning lower, and neither of them had been dancing in a while, just lying back under the stars Carlos had painted on the inside of the giant umbrella.

Kevin couldn’t look away from Carlos for more than a few seconds at a time. Carlos had his eyes closed, smiling gently as he hummed along to the weather.

“What are you thinking of?” Kevin asked. He felt like he was floating above his body, light and heavy all at once.

“Science, mostly,” Carlos said. Kevin laughed softly, and Carlos’s smile grew wider. “We’re all so infinitesimal, you know? Made up of all these tiny little bits that are made of smaller bits, and they all vibrate and dance at different frequencies and it makes the bits do loop-de-loops and then they all add together and then you have us! And space. And the desert. And Doug and Alisha. And then the whole planet is so tiny!” Carlos gestured with one hand, his fingers pinched close together. “And the sun could destroy us all, and even the sun’s just one ball of flaming gas in a million billion and its not even a big one! And everything is stretching off far, far away—” Carlos threw his hands to the sky, palms wide and open, “—and we’re just down here on the surface pretending we know anything about how it all works—infinitesimal!—and like I suppose we do know a little bit but not really because it all gets weird when you look really close anyway and it stops obeying the big laws, and that’s why maths is useful.”

Kevin hummed. “I’m thinking about how if I die, it will be because the Smiling God will eat me.”

 _“If_ you die?”

“Yeah, it’s that way or I’m living forever.”

“I don’t think you get a choice most of the time, when it comes to dying.”

“I’ll just not do it. I’ll just not die.”

Carlos propped himself up on his elbows, still smiling and looking ready to argue the point, but before he could say a word, a different sound rang out around the firepit. Carlos froze, his eyes going wide, and suddenly he was gone from Kevin’s side, grabbing at his phone—

“CECIL!!!!!” Carlos shrieked in delight. “Oh, Cecil, I was just thinking about you! I love you so much, honey!”

There was muffled talking noises from over the receiver, and Carlos was making kissy noises back. Kevin watched from across the fire, quite suddenly bereft.

“I miss you so much, babe! Have you heard from Station Management yet? I can’t wait to see you again, Ceec, you have to see what we built here! I have a full lab again! It’s full of dead birds and cacti and beakers!”

Carlos didn’t seem to notice at all, as Kevin stood, and he didn’t look over when Kevin picked up his own phone, turning the weather app off. He was twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, giggling every few seconds.

“Your voice is so pretty, babe! Say my name again!”

Kevin walked away from the fire, and with each step he felt his warmth draining away despite the desert heat. Carlos never said goodbye.

* * *

* * *

Cecil came to visit. From the moment he arrived, Kevin didn’t see either him or Carlos for over a week.

It was okay. Carlos was happy. He had Cecil with him. That was what made Carlos happy. It was important Carlos was happy. Kevin would be rather unhappy if Carlos was unhappy.

The fact that Kevin wasn’t particularly happy right now was irrelevant. He was making good progress on the radio station. And the City Hall looked sweet now that it had those wicked concentric circles filled with triangular shaped teeth. If you stared at them long enough, they began to spiral and pulsate, like a living maw.

What was happiness anyway? Was it even relevant anymore? Strex had felt happy, deliriously happy, and not much else at all. It felt almost blank with happiness, empty and bloody. And being near Carlos was a different kind of happiness, more like fire and a light in the dark.

Kevin knew how to feel other things. Really, he did! He felt, um… well, he felt curious! That was a feeling, right? And he would feel hungry too, and sometimes he’d feel a different version of happiness where all he wanted to do was run and run and run and run until his lungs gave out and the sand buried him. Or that other kind of happiness where he would burrow into a small place, a fissure in the rocks, and curl up all tiny until he was sure there was no one from Strex nearby, because as much as Carlos said they didn’t exist anymore and Carlos didn’t generally lie, what if he was just confused and didn’t understand how businesses worked and Strex was actually here in the Desert Otherworld and they would find Kevin any moment now?

That _was_ happiness, right? Happiness was the one that made your heart beat so fast it felt like you were flying with wings made of papier-mâché that was currently on fire and seconds away from plunging at terminal velocity towards a hard and uncaring ground?

Kevin saw Cecil and Carlos wandering the newly built and empty town, hand in hand and lost in each other. They waved when they saw him. He waved back, and climbed to the top of the Lighthouse for the rest of the day.

Happiness wasn’t enough. Happiness didn’t make a new roof to sleep under, and it didn’t make new radio stations where you could one day send a signal out to all of the desert. Happiness wasn’t solid enough for that. It was wobbly and broken and indistinct, and Kevin didn’t need it anyway.

Joy was better.

Cecil and Carlos were wandering the town every day now. Kevin wandered into the desert.

The desert was beautiful, Kevin decided. It was a joyful thing. 

Sands shifted and he could feel every grain as they danced up and down the dunes, caught between winds and gravity. He held a handful of it to his nose, breathing in the scent of hot stone and dust and living things.

An empty vessel without a town. Maybe it was time he found something more filling.

Tilting his head back, Kevin poured the sand into his eyes, gasping as he felt it scatter within him, hundreds and hundreds of little specks transforming into sparks of light. The wind chattered excitedly, curling around his shoulders and trailing up his neck, and between one breath and the next it was part of him too, coiling in his lungs. The “sun” was watching with interest, and it dropped lower when Kevin turned to stare at it, tentative beams of light burning across his skin. Kevin laughed, and invited it closer, and it's light sunk into his flesh.

A mutual adoption between Kevin and the desert, the both of them violent and bizarre and aggressively alive. All around him, the desert was singing.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Kevin said. He felt warm, flickering, alight. “It took me a while to realise what you were asking. To let you in.”

He could see it, now. The story behind every grain of sand. The location of every old oak door. The Lighthouse, a flaming beacon, welcoming him anew to the desert. The dozens and dozens of humans trapped and travelling the land, some of them familiar. The desert was much larger than it seemed, made of space folded over and over on top of itself, reaching places where the borders between real and unreal were flimsy. It was a transitional place for so many of them, a place for the lost and seeking and lonely, full of danger and distractions and the hope of a better place to exist. 

A light had ignited within him, new and familiar. Kevin could feel it building, and there were flames dancing across his fingertips, a familiar milky white. Eyes watching him from the great void within, grinning wide, sharp teeth glistening. The light spread, turning his skin translucent, the flesh too, until he could see the living bone within.

Kevin laughed, falling onto his back, clutching his hands to his chest.

“And you’re here too!” Kevin said. “You’re here! You didn’t leave me. You were waiting for me to find you again!”

The ground rumbled, something huge moving below the surface, and Kevin giggled. Fire spilled from his hands, his eyes, his mouth, a conflagration building and Kevin was at the centre!

"It's your place, your land, your home, I can see it now! I can see it!"

The flames grew hotter, white fire mixing with Kevin's own more colourful lights, whipped up into a spiralling column by the wind. Kevin laughed, and he could feel their joy alongside his own, the entirety of the desert that was the heartland of the Smiling God's power, and it flowed inside him, dancing through his blood and marrow and along the edges of his smile. Tracing gently, careful like Kevin was something precious, something beloved, and nothing else mattered in the world.

Kevin woke up later in a crater of glass, just as the Coloured Lights That Steal Your essence were reaching for him. Kevin grinned, and they hissed, recoiling.

“Your eyes!” cried their myriad voices. Kevin cackled.

“I’m my own Light. You can’t touch me, or I’ll devour you. I’ll devour you!”

They screeched, and in the back of his mind Kevin could hear the Smiling God’s amusement, sharp teeth bared and shining. The Coloured Lights were nothing before them.

* * *

The day Carlos left, the sun was concealed behind a haze of spiralling dust.

Kevin wasn’t alone, not technically. The Lighthouse, the Smiling God, the desert wind, the rolling sands, they were all still here. But it felt a lot like being alone.

The sad letter was still in his hand. Black letters on white empty space, forming noises that made abstract concepts flicker through his mind. By the time he understood what it was saying, he knew Carlos was already at the door. It was opening to his touch, welcoming him through, the way Kevin had always known it would. 

Carlos was gone. And he would not be coming back.


End file.
